Hell Bound
by rustedcrimson
Summary: Fighting monsters and sass will abound. Sam and Dean wind up in Sleepy Hollow on their way to a hunt and get more than they were expecting. Dean is trying to find something, the reason Sam was dragged out onto the road at 2am. But a storm drives them to seek shelter at a gas station, which leads them to their first meeting with the headless horseman, as well as Abbie.
1. Prologue

Prologue

The Black Chevy Impala sailed across the desolate highway, wheels spewing rainwater into the starless sky, smoke spurting out into the obsidian night. The still autumn air hummed with the cadence of the rumbling engine. The long stretch of pavement lay between two strips of forest on either side. The leaves had begun to blur between spectrums, and crimson, pumpkin, and yellow leaves littered the barren roadway, spinning in brisk gusts of wind.

"What the hell Dean," Sam yawned, his feet propped on the dashboard as he leaned back in the chair, stretching, "It's 3 in the morning, couldn't this have waited 'till sunrise at least?"

"Get your feet off there," Dean grunted, shifting his weight as he steered towards the exit, "It was important."

"Yeah, well we can't just be on the road all the time you know. Every once in a while we need to just take a break," Sam turned his face towards Dean, sliding his feet off the dash.

"You didn't hear the call, so shut up and go back to sleep if that's what's pissin' you off."

"Fine then, what's so special about this one?"

"It-" Dean bit the inside of his mouth, his hands tight on the wheel, "I just want to know if it's possible."

"We're up in the dead of night because you got curious? C'mon Dean, really?"

"You. Didn't. Hear. The. Call. Alright? Just go to sleep, we've still got a good hour or so. All backroads now though, so don't get hissy if you wake up 'cause your head got knocked against the door."

"M'kay then." Sam propped his feet back on the dash and slid back in the seat. Dean looked disapprovingly at him and sighed, but didn't bring it back up.

The headlights glinted off the glossy pavement as the charcoal sky opened up and rain began to pound on the roof of the car, windshield wipers swishing back and forth as rain spilled across the glass. Dean clutched the wheel tighter, his eyelids pulled back as he ran through the possibilities. Sure, it could be... but it was most likely not. No point getting worked up over something that could easily be nothing more than an overactive imagination.

He rolled his shoulders out and readjusted the mirror. The rain was getting heavier, and he had to squint to see through the cascading sheets that slid off the windshield. The headlights were just wavering beams on the darkened street, the landscape was smudged beyond recognition, like a smearing watercolor painting. He slowed the car down, but continued to drive, biting his lip as he drove through the now thickened forest, branches pulled into the road by the vigorous wind, shredding leaves in roadside ditches and snapping twigs off their trunks.

If this got much worse, driving would be impossible. There had to be a town nearby, or at least someplace to pull over. Sure, this was important, but if they weren't alive to see it, there was no point.

The roadsigns were all obscured by layers of rain, but he managed to make out a name, _Welcome To Sleepy Hollow. _


	2. Chapter 1, Thunderstruck

Dean slid the car into the parking lot of a dimly lit gas station, ripples spread through the deepening puddles. The lights quivered in the water, flashing and vibrating as bursts of thunder rolled across the gloomy sky. The car shifted down and Dean yanked the door open, standing half in the rain he reached over and shook Sam,

"Wake up Sam," he said, his face taut with apprehension.

Sam jolted awake slamming his knee against the underside of the dash, "Geez, you didn't have to be so rough," he remarked, rubbing his sore knee.

"Hurry up, it's raining."

"Then why the hell're you standing out there?" Sam muttered as he clicked his door open and pulled his jacket up above his head.

They stood beneath the overhang, Dean smeared away the vapor and looked in.

"Doesn't look like it's open."

Sam sighed and tugged his jacket back down, "Great. Guess we'll be waiting out the storm in the car."

"Nothin' wrong with that," Dean shrugged, "Put your jacket back up, dumbass, wouldn't want to get that hair wet."

Sam rolled his eyes, but pulled the jacket back up as they made their way back through the sheets of algid rain.

With the doors closed again, rain blurring everything beyond the inside of the car, Dean snapped on the radio. A muffled voice spilled out,

_"... And a local police department is holding a man who claims to have just awakened from a 200 year sleep- What do you think of that Chelsea? *laughing* Well Jonathan, I guess we'll just have to wait for an update. They're still questioning him but-"_

Dean turned it down, and grinned over at Sam, "Now that's our kind of weird."

"Yeah, doesn't mean it's true though." Sam shrugged, reaching over to switch to another channel.

"We can check it out while we're here anyways."

"Thought we were rushing off to Tarrytown, wasn't there something, _important, _there?"

"If there are people here that need our help, we can take a day for that, besides, we're a 2 minute drive away."

Sam leaned back to his seat as the radio spurted out a staticy tune,

_"...This is my kingdom come, when you feel my heat, look into my eyes, it's where my demons hide, it's where my demons hide-"_

Sam drummed along on the window sill, humming.

"Damn it Sam-" he twisted the dial,

_"Yeah the ladies were too kind... You've been- thunderstruck, thunderstruck, yeah yeah yeah, thunderstruck, yeah, oh..."_

Dean tapped his foot on the floor.

Sam sighed, "Can't you listen to anything else?"

"Nope." Dean replied, snapping his fingers and swinging his head back and forth.

Sam sighed loudly and slumped down in his seat. Dean turned the radio up.

"Can't you at least keep it down so I can sleep?"

"You shouldn't sleep with music like this playing."

"Well then I'll change it-" Sam reached for the dial,

"You can sleep outside." Dean smirked, slapping his hand away.

"It's pouring out there, Dean!" he grumbled.

"Well then guess you'll just have to suck it up- my car, my rules."

Sam leaned his head on the ledge beneath the window and sulked, "It's your fault I'm up so late."

"I let you sleep all the way here- don't complain. We've got a job."

"Then let's go do it."

"The roads are flooded, Sammy, we can't go anywhere."

"Can't we at least listen to the news then- maybe we can learn more about what's going on here."

"They aren't gonna say anything helpful- we'll need to do any real research on our own- besides," he paused as a shadow melted across the glass, then a click- "GET DOWN SAM!" he reached over and shoved Sam's head away from the window, right as glass cascaded around them.

"Was that-" Sam kept his head down, turning towards Dean.

"A shotgun. Now who the hell..." he shook his head and reached into the glove compartment, pulling out a gun. "I'm going to the trunk-" he handed the gun to Sam, "Cover me."

Sam nodded, opening the door and crouching behind it. Dean crawled around to the trunk, grabbing a shotgun,

"Can you see who- or what- it is?" Dean yelled over the storm,

"No- it- but whoever it is- they're riding a horse."

"Damn it!" Dean crawled back through the car and stooped beside Sam, "Okay- but do they look like a person?"

"You can see- can't you?" Sam retorted.

Dean sighed and peeked around the door, "Don't tell me-" Dean took a shot, and scowled, "Is that- the hell Sam! They don't have a head!"

"Are you telling me that's a headless horseman?" Sam frowned.

"Well Sam, I can't deny that," he nodded, a dry look on his face, "He's on a horse, and he doesn't have a head, so I'd say, YES. THAT IS A HEADLESS HORSEMAN."

"Are you serious right now?"

"I don't know- why don't you have look then, damn it, if you don't believe me- I can't say anything for certain, but he is definitely on a horse, and he is definitely headless, so make of that what you want."

"Okay, it's late-"

"Early."

"It's early in the morning and you've been driving all night, shoot me for doubting your judge-" Sam whipped back around behind the door, "Oh god he doesn't have a head."

"What did I tell you!" Dean shouted, reloading the gun, "I told you Sam! I told you!"

"Yeah, but I thought maybe you were kidding me- we're in Sleepy Hollow you asshat!"

"You think I'd joke about something like that?"

Sam's eyes widened and he spread his arms, "Yeah!"

"Well- I wasn't."

"I CAN SEE THAT!"

"Okay- does dad's book say anything-"

"No. Of course it doesn't," Sam replied, exasperated as he pulled the book from the side pocket of the door.

"Did you check?"

"Does it look like I checked?"

"Just look." Dean shrugged, scuttling back through the car.

"Where are you going?"

"Gotta get a few more things from the trunk."

"Like what?"

"What the hell do you think? If this is actually-"

"Goddamn it Dean it's probably just some guy messing around with-"

"Do you want to take that chance Sam? Do you really?"

Sam held the gun back up and nodded, "I'll cover you."

Dean nodded back and slid around to the back.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Why the hell'd you think it was a good idea to pull into an empty parking lot in Sleepy Hollow?"

"You said yourself, that legend's more legend than truth- at least, I thought so." Dean replied, shoving a few things into a bag.

Sam fired a few shots, "I can't even tell if I hit him- it's too dark out," he shook his head and pressed his body against the door.

"Even if you did hit him- doesn't mean it'll kill him, or even slow him down."

"True."

"Here-" Dean said, gliding across the seats and squatting down beside Sam, "Rock salt in these," he pulled two guns out of the bag.

"Do you think that'll work?"

"It's worth a shot," he shrugged.

Sam aimed and pulled the trigger, "Damn it! Missed."

"He's pretty far away still- do you think he'll come closer?"

"Do you _want _him to come closer?" Sam mumbled, aiming again.

"I- no- but it would make it easier to hit him!"

Shots rang out from the hill past the horseman, who ran into the forest and a woman rushed over to them, shoving her gun back in its holster,

"Are you two alright?"

"Yeah, I guess," Dean said, throwing the guns back in the car.

"I'm Abbie Mills," she reached her hand out for Dean to shake, "I'm with the police. Who're you two?"

"Dean. This is my brother Sam."

Abbie smiled and leaned to shake Sam's hand, "Hi, hope you two aren't hurt." She looked down at the pavement around them, "Is that- salt?"

"Yeah- don't ask." Dean said

"Come on," she helped Sam up, "I'll take you back to the station. You're soaking wet and shivering. I think there's a coffee machine in the back room."

"That sounds great." Sam nodded.

"Hey," Dean started, "You know anything about that guy who says he's been dead for 200 years?"

Abbie sighed, "Unfortunately."

"What do you know?" Dean pressed.

"You can see him for yourself if you come with me."

"Really?" Dean grinned, "That'd be great- hey- just asking, do you believe any of it?"

"I- he's probably just on drugs, or maybe mentally ill," she shrugged, "I mean, it isn't possible to come back to life."

"You don't really believe that- do you?"

"Dean, leave her alone, she doesn't need you asking her a bunch of stupid questions-" he turned to Abbie, "Sorry, my brother can be kind of an ass sometimes, you'll have to just ignore him."

"Sam, it's obvious she-"

"Drop it. Dean," Sam said through gritted teeth, "Can't you see she's uncomfortable?"

"No- it's fine. I don't normally believe all that stuff, but he- he's telling the truth, I know he is. I don't know how, but he is. You think it's crazy, right?" she sighed, "I just want answers."

"No! I don't think you're crazy," Sam shook his head, "We actually, well, we hunt this sort of stuff all the time."

"Shut up Sam!" Dean growled, "She's going to think _we're_ crazy if you keep talking."

Abbie stared at Dean, "Look- we all just saw that thing- and I'm not going to pretend it wasn't headless. There's something weird going on here and I can't just ignore that."

"Well, we might be able to help." Sam offered.

"Thanks, but I think I can take care of this. On my own. It's sort of my job," Abbie said, turning away, "Let's get back to the station, we can talk there."

"Sounds good," Dean nodded. "Sam can get that hair of his dry again."

Sam shot him a look and brushed his hair out of his eyes, "I can't help it."

"Get a haircut then." Dean shrugged.

The walk back to the station was a quiet one, filled with soggy shoes slopping against the sidewalk, and leaves occasionally finding asylum in Sam and Abbie's hair. The sky was beginning to lighten, pink and orange bled onto the horizon, and the rain slowed to a drizzle, the clouds dissipating.

Abbie led them into the lobby, "Wait here, I'll go see if Ichabod is out yet. Help yourself to the coffee machine."

"Sam, go get us some coffee."

"Get your own coffee, lazy-ass," Sam said, walking over to the machine.

"You're already there though."

"Fine." Sam sighed, "Black?"

"Mmhm."

Sam handed him the cup, "Careful, it's hot."

"I know," Dean retorted, taking a sip. He squinted hard and bit his lip.

"Told you."

Abbie walked back out, a man following her, "This is Ichabod. Ichabod, this is Sam and Dean. They've seen him too."

"_Him?_"

"No- not _him._ The horseman though, they saw him."

"Wait-" Dean cocked his head, "Who's _him_?"

"Nobody." Abbie shook her head. "Anyways. Ichabod, tell them what you told me, about the witches and the whole brought back to life thing."

"Alright." Ichabod took a seat beside them on the bench. "So long as you promise they won't send me off to an asylum," he added wryly.

"No- I think they might know something- they said they hunt these things."

Dean jabbed his elbow into Sam's side and whispered, "The hell'd you have to tell her about that for anyways?"

Sam shoved Dean away and whispered, "She looked like she needed someone to believe her- to believe in the crazy stuff happening around here."

"Still." Dean looked over at Ichabod and whispered back to Sam, "Hey- you two can be hair buddies."

"Would you stop?" Sam sighed.

"Well- if they're going to aid us I suppose I'll tell them then- but I'm still rather angry about the whole "detained" business. I thought this was a free country," he remarked dryly. "To put it shortly, my wife, who was a witch, placed me under a spell, and here I am, awake 200 years later. I don't recall anything past being injured- I was in a hospital, she was there, then it was all black, until I burst through the ground in a basement with no recollection of the past 200 years."

Sam looked at Dean and whispered, _"Definitely our kind of weird."_


	3. Chapter 2, A Warm Soupy Mess

"So- how're you taking everything?" Sam asked Ichabod.

"Well, it certainly has been quite an adventure thus far- seeing as I was nearly hit by a car, and then taken in for questioning, called insane, insulted-"

"That's enough, Ichabod," Abbie rolled her eyes, "You can't just tell people you've been dead for 200 years and expect them to believe you without a bit of backstory."

Ichabod scowled, "They believe me," he said, looking over at Sam and Dean, "And besides, I haven't had any real chance to complain, since you seem entirely numb to my misfortunes, and every other person I've come into contact with has written me off as mad," he paused, and inhaled deeply, a look of grief flitting across his blue eyes, "It's not easy," he blinked hard, "Everyone I love is dead. And I don't even know why I'm here."

Dean bit his lip and turned to Sam, who nodded.

"I know what you mean," Sam whispered.

Ichabod sighed, "I haven't the slightest theory regarding these events, all I know for certain is that I am, indeed alive, and I did, indeed, die."

"Well, that's less hard to handle than a lot of things we've dealt with," Sam nodded, "We're here for you."

Abbie clenched her fists and looked down at the Winchesters and Ichabod, then whispered, "I am too. I- I know what it feels like to lose people you care about."

Dean laughed, "Looks like we're just a group of broken hearts, huh? C'mon, let's go get some pie and coca, we could all use some cheering up."

"You have coffee already," Sam remarked.

"Yeah, and it tastes like death, the hell'd you put in this?"

"Nothing- you asked for it black."

"Anyways-" Dean set the cup on a ledge beside them, "Let's get out of here, it's gettin' so gloomy."

"I agree." Ichabod nodded, standing up, his stature proper as always, "I'd love to see what else this modern world has to offer- perhaps I may find something interesting that doesn't attempt to send me back beneath several layers of dirt."

Abbie leaned against the wall, her arms crossed, "You know, you aren't exactly supposed to leave the station yet- everyone's still convinced you're unstable."

"Well, you don't seem to have had any problem disregarding their orders thus far- I assure you I'll return calmly, I simply wish to have a bit of time to recover from the shock of being revived after a 200 year death."

"Okay- look," Abbie shook her head, "I don't want to get into trouble here. I'll go ask if I can be granted permission to be your- guardian I suppose. They might let me look after you while they get some paperwork sorted. I'll be right back." She slid her arms to her sides and walked back down the hallway.

"I'm still not certain she believes me, but I suppose at least she trusts my sanity enough to attempt releasing me from this damn abomination of justice."

"No, she believes you," Sam nodded, "She's just- I don't know, I can tell something's wrong though. I'd go easy on her, we've all been through something, and none of us wants to talk about it."

"Really? I'd love to talk about what's happened to me, seeing as it's a crucial part of our current standing."

Dean sighed, "Look, I just want to get out of here."

Sam raised his eyebrows, "Why? Afraid they'll find out who we are?"

"Easy for you to say, I'm _dead _Sam."

"Right, forgot about that. They're focused on Ichabod though, you'll be fine. Besides, that was ages ago."

"Dead people stay dead, Sammy."

Sam gritted his teeth, "Yeah. They do."

Abbie walked back over to them, "Alright, I've got permission to take you out, so long as I make sure you don't do anything," she paused, looking Ichabod straight in the eye, "weird."

"Why on earth would they assume I'd do anything 'weird'?" he retorted, offended.

"Oh, I wonder what gave them that idea," Abbie rolled her eyes, "Let's go, there's a place down the road that serves pie, and," she paused, whispering the last two words as her face contorted with grief, "_ice cream," _she paused again, then resumed her speech, a pained smile on her face, "Anyways, they have hot cocoa too I'm sure."

Sam looked concerned, "We- uh- don't need to get pie if-"

"No. It's fine. Really. I'm fine," Abbie said, pressing her index fingers against her tear ducts, "I just- it's nothing," she shook her head. "Let's go."

Sam looked at Dean, who bit his lip and shrugged.

The restaurant was fairly empty, clean white tables lined the tall windows, and the steady hum of the kitchen permeated the air, along with the sizzling scent of bacon.

"Here we are," Abbie remarked, "Go ahead and pick out a seat, I'll get the pie and cocoa."

"You don't have to-" Sam started, but Abbie cut him off,

"This is my town, and you're guests."

Sam nodded and slid into a booth.

"So- there's definitely something weird going on here, demons?" Sam asked, directing his question at Dean, who was busy glancing at a woman sitting alone a few table away. Ichabod answered,

"I haven't seen much yet, but from what I've managed to glean from this-" he pulled a bible out of his coat, "We're dealing with something big."

"Is that-"

"Yes-" Ichabod opened to a page near the back, which had been dogeared back, "Revelations. I've been reading up on a few things since I was awakened, and the only thing that makes any sense to me, is remarkably bad for this town- and the world."

"The world?"

"Yes- Sam. The world. I'm talking about the apocalypse, the reckoning. We're looking at the end of the world."

"Have you said anything to Abbie about this?" Dean whispered.

"I've tried- though like I mentioned previously, I'm uncertain to whether or not she deems anything I say credible."

"Well- we're all here now, and after last night, I'm pretty sure she's interested in what you have to say."

Abbie slid the plates onto the table and sat beside Ichabod, across from Dean and Sam, "Alright- so like I said. If anyone has any idea what's going on here, I'd love to be informed."

"I've already told you about the horsemen, and how what you saw in the woods-" Abbie cut him off,

"I was talking to them, Ichabod. You've said quite enough already."

Ichabod closed his eyes and turned away, sighing.

"Well, we'll need something to work with, we can't pull theories out of thin air," Sam started, "So anything you have to tell us would be useful."

"We all saw that, horseman, together, so if you have any idea what it was..."

"We were pretty far away, and it was pouring buckets. I didn't get a very good look. And even if I had, we don't- there's nothing in dad's book about this," Sam sighed.

Ichabod turned back, "He's death."

"What?" Dean asked, tilting his head.

"I couldn't kill him, because he's death. I blew his head off, but he was never dead. Or he was always dead. I'm not sure which," Ichabod shrugged.

"Corbin said-" Abbie paused, "Never mind," she shook her head.

Dean raised an eyebrow, "Remember- if you think it could be helpful..."

"It's nothing."

"Okay."

"So- as I've been gone for 200 years, have you noticed anything out of the ordinary lately?" Ichabod asked.

Abbie shook her head, "No- everything was pretty normal, until you showed up."

"No need to be rude," Ichabod smirked, "Really though? Nothing strange?"

"No."

"We've seen plenty of strange things," Sam sighed, "But I doubt they have anything to do with this."

"Alright then, that was certainly a helpful discussion," Abbie sighed, prodding her pie, the ice cream slipping off the top onto the plate.

"Sorry- you didn't really offer much for us to go off of though," Dean pointed out.

"Look, I know there are things you don't want to talk about, there are plenty of things I'd prefer to leave in the past- but if Ichabod's right, this could be big- far bigger than any of us. So if there's anything, anything you think could help us figure this out- just- say something. Whenever you're ready."

"Yeah," Dean agreed, his mouth full of pie.

Ichabod took a sip of cocoa and had narrowed his eyes, "This is terrible, it's like water!"

"Well sorry it doesn't meet your standards, but it's some of the best cocoa I've ever had," Abbie retorted.

"I'll have to make some then, since it seems the modern world has butchered what was once a delicious drink."

"You do that."

"So- I suppose the best course of action would be to go after the horseman. Where do you think he's likely to show up?" Sam asked.

"I doubt he'll leave Sleepy Hollow, I'm here after all, and I'm fairly certain he's still a bit angry about the whole beheading business."

"You think it's time of day too?" Dean glanced at Sam.

"I'm not sure, but it does seem safer to come out at night- people can blame the headless bit on a trick of the light then, but come out in full daylight, and people'll start to notice."

"You still never checked the book," Dean sighed.

"It's not going to have anything in there- I'm sure Dad would have mentioned something if he'd known anything about something like this."

"Maybe he didn't want us getting involved back then- just check," Dean said as he stood up and started walking away, "Let's go Sam, we've got work to do then. Besides, I gotta park the Impala someplace safer."

"But I still have pie-" Sam protested.

"You can bring it along, let's go."

Sam sighed, "Sorry. See you later then, I guess!"

Ichabod nodded. Abbie was staring down at her pie, swirling the ice cream and the pie together,

"It's just a warm soupy mess now," she whispered.


	4. Chapter 4, It's Gone

"It's gone." Dean sat down on the sidewalk and stared at the dry spot on the pavement. "It's gone," he repeated, shaking his head and blinking dramatically.

Sam sighed, leaning against the glass of the empty gas station, "Sitting there are saying it over and over isn't going to bring it back- let's go. We can ask around, see if anyone saw who took it, or if something else happened to it."

Dean stood up and kicked a stone across the desolate parking lot, the wind scattering pebbles and leaves away from him. "Fine- but you should know I'm not leaving this damn town without my Impala."

"Uh huh," Sam nodded, pulling Dean's bitter reflection out of the glass. "C'mon, you stick around here much longer and we'll be paying for a new car _and _a new window."

"I wouldn't-"

Sam tilted his head, eyebrows raised.

"Let's go. And since we're walking- you have even more time to look through that book."

"You seem really confident that Dad knew something, but I don't see how that makes sense at all- Dean, he never mentioned it. Don't you think something important as this would have come up once or twice? You know, maybe he'd have said something over dinner, maybe mentioned it at breakfast? Maybe?" Sam tightened his eyes skeptically.

"Maybe he was waiting to make sure," Dean shrugged.

"I hate to bring it up Dean-" Sam sighed, and bit his lip, "but he's dead. He's dead and he knew he was going to die. If he did know anything-"

"Shut up Sam," Dean whipped around, his jaw tight as his lip quivered, "It won't kill you to shut your damn trap, or look through a few pages," Dean narrowed his eyes and glared at his brother, "We don't have an unlimited amount of time."

Sam took a few longer strides and caught up to Dean, who was shuffling along angrily, disturbing twigs, rocks, and the dirt itself. He shoved the book savagely at Dean's chest,

"You read it then," he spat, "It's not as though I'm the only one who can open it!"

Dean gripped it tight for a second, then pushed it back at Sam, a trace of dejection in his overcast jade eyes,

"Look-" he began, his brows furrowed, "I don't want to- okay?"

Sam stood still, holding the book loosely as his arm dropped down, "This is about Dad, isn't it?" he called out to Dean, who had already lumbered across several yards of sidewalk. He stopped dead, leaning forward, and shoved his hands in his pockets,

"Doesn't matter."

Sam squeezed his eyes shut, "It's okay, if you can't- I just want you to talk to me about it."

"We gotta get going if-"

"Dean, I know you aren't okay. I'm not okay. But we're in this together. From the moment we lost Mom, we've been in this together."

"I wanna get my car back, let's head out before it ends up out of the state."

Sam sighed and sprinted up to Dean, "We could go back to to the station and ask if-"

"Yes. Because police stations are just where I wanna be," Dean said huffily.

"Just because-"

"It's dangerous Sammy," Dean shook his head, "We can find the Impala on our own anyways, we don't need the help of a bunch of bunch'a dumbass police officers."

"You can't do everything on your own!" Sam said, gripping Dean's shoulder and turning him around.

"Is this even about the car anymore?" Dean gave a bitter laugh as he pushed Sam away.

Sam caught his balance and stood still, fists clenched, "Yes! No- a little! Dean, I can't just stand here and watch you go into a tailspin, if I looked even close to as depressed as you do now, you'd be taking me to Vegas or some shit- I can't do that, but I can listen, so sit the hell down and talk to me for once!"

Dean rolled out his shoulders and continued walking, "First we find the Impala."

Sam sighed, "Fine- but after that you have to promise me that we'll talk."

Dean bit his lip, his eyes fixed on an unimportant portion of gravel, "Yeah," he took a deep breath, "I promise."

"Good," Sam nodded to himself. "If you don't wanna go to the police, we can just ask around."

"Sounds good."  
"But could we please stop so I can finish this pie?" Sam said, pulling the styrofoam box out of his jacket pocket.

"Yeah, sure I guess. Where?"

"We could always go back to the restaurant where we ate..." Sam suggested.

"Guess so, now that I don't have a car to park anymore," Dean replied bitterly, turning on his heel.

"I'll buy you a drink- you could use one for sure."

"I can buy it myself."

"Doesn't mean you need to."

Dean sighed, shaking his head slowly, "Yeah."

"Wonder how Abbie's doing," Sam remarked.

"Yeah, she did seem pretty shaken up. Wonder what was wrong."

"I don't know, but the look in her eyes was an awful lot like how you looked just now."

"What, when we noticed the Impala was missing?"

Sam snorted, "No you dumbass. But I guess that's close."

Dean jabbed him in the arm, "The love a man has for his car is unmatched."

"Yeah, really," Sam rolled his eyes.

"Speaking of love, I wonder if that girl from earlier's still there," Dean winked.

The side of Sam's mouth pressed tighter together in a sort of sarcastic smile as his eyebrows forced creases up his forehead. "Thought we were looking for the Impala."

"Obviously that comes first, but there's nothing wrong with a little bit of looking," Dean grinned and tipped his head to the side.

"Well let's hurry it up, just in case my pie can manage to get any colder," Sam said, shoving the box back in his pocket.

"Race you," Dean smirked, taking off running.

"Dean-" Sam stood dejectedly for a second before jogging after him, "I have pie! I can't run you dumbass!"

"Bitch!"

"Jerk!"

The diner was beginning to fill as the breakfast crowd filtered in through the rain patterned glass doors. Dean slid in, his sneakers squeaking on the wet floor as he came to a halt, grabbing the back of a booth. Sam followed several seconds later, panting, hand on his pocket as he made a valiant attempt to keep the pie from falling out.

"Was that really-" Sam paused, catching his breath as he leaned against the booth, "Necessary?" he finished.

Dean shrugged, a sarcastic grin revealing his teeth, "You're the one who wanted to hurry back."

"Damn you," Sam sighed, sliding into the empty seat and tugging open the container. "Look at this-" he said dramatically, pointing at the mess of crust and apple pieces. "It's a mess! This is all your fault."

"'Least you didn't get it al la mode," Dean smirked, resting his arm on the top of the booth.

"Hey- do you see them anywhere?" Sam asked, looking around.

Dean shook his head, "Looks like they left."

"Wait-" Sam stood up and ran over to the counter where Abbie was paying.

"Don't tell me you're here to pay, I already told you-"

"No- it's not that," Sam paused, glancing at Dean, "Uh, we kind of lost our car."

"You- lost a car?" Abbie raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, you know where you found us, in that parking lot, it's- well it isn't there anymore."

"Hm," Abbie started, taking the change and receipt as she walked over with Sam to where Dean sat, "Have you gone to the station yet to report it?"

"Uh- Dean doesn't want to because- we're, not from around here, and-"

"You don't need to lie to me, I'm not in any mood to go arresting the few people who believe a word of this crazy story we've got playing out."

"Okay, the truth is, Dean's kind of, um, well, he's in some trouble with the law, that's all you really need to know. So, will you help us?" Sam asked, his eyes set beneath furrowed brows.

"We're in this together now," Abbie began, "Where you go, I go. Where I go, you damn well better follow, until we figure out what the hell we've fallen into, nobody keeps information from one another, nobody leaves the other to fend for themselves. Let's go, I'll file a report for you. Until we find your car, I can drive you where you need to go."

_"But where will we sleep,_" Dean whispered to Sam.

"Goddamn it Dean, you act as though hotels are legendary beasts, I'm sure we'll find some-"

"_My wallet was in the Impala._"

"Oh- well-" Sam reached in his jean pocket nervously, "I've got mine. He remarked, but all I have is a couple of dollars."

"I can- I mean, I've got a couch and a couple of sleeping bags..." Abbie offered.

"No, we couldn't-" Sam began.

"Sounds good." Dean interrupted. "Let's head over and get things set up a while."

"Alright," Abbie smiled, standing up, "We better get going before the department starts calling me to bring Ichabod back."

Sam glared at Dean and mouthed, "What the hell?"

Dean just grinned and rushed out the door after Abbie.


End file.
